The Lesser Gondorian
by Faramir's Tumbleweed
Summary: Eorl is friend of Captain Faramir. This story goes through The Two Towers and the Return of the King. Please R&R. Story better than summary :
1. Chapter 1

** I **

* * *

I have known Faramir since we were young lads, exploring the high towers of the White City. His father greatly disapproved of our friendship, for I was the son of a lesser Gondorian. Still, that did not stop us from hiding spiders in the soldier's armor. 

Now, he is the young captain of Gondor, guardian of the plains of Ithilien. I know naught why his father has no use for him. Faramir has many uses! He is a great swordsman, a great gentleman. My sister Elana fell for him. Faramir fell for her too! He even asked for her hand in marriage. But, alas, the steward Denethor Faramir's father, turned down Faramir's request. He said Faramir was too young, Elana too unworthy.

Elana is now dead. She died when a battalion of orcs stormed Minas Tirith. She was one of the fifteen that died. Captain-general Boromir came back from the Gap of Rohan. He pushed the orcs back and all was at peace. But, Boromir's act made Denethor frown upon his lesser son even more.

My name is Eorl, Ithran's son. My mother, the late Enwin, was of Rohan. She named me after the father of the Rohirrim, the first king to sit in the Golden Hall. This is my story. It begins in Ithilien... when we captured two peculiar hobbits named Frodo Baggins and Sam Gamgee...


	2. Haradrim and Hobbits

**II **

"Faramir," I whispered and pointed. He peered cautiously out of our hidingplace behind a shrub. Smoke rose from a hill, behind several mulberry trees.

"Later Eorl. Now, we deal with the oliphaunts," he whispered back. I squirmed uncomfortably. "Blow the signal Eorl lad." I picked up a wooden whistle and blew. It sounded like a thrush. To these Haradrim, it would have been nothing. A whistle sounded back. I counted under my breath... _one, two, three_.

We jumped out of hiding places. I released my arrow. It whizzed through the air and hit a Haradrim in the chest. He screamed and fell back. Faramir hit one too.

"Take down the animals!" he shouted. I aimed one for the throat. Arrows flew everywhere. I loved this life. The thrill, the screams, the death of all the enemies. Someone next to me screamed. I turned wildly and saw Faramir with an arrow in his shoulder. I gasped and yanked it out. He gasped in pain. "Nay Eorl. It's nothing but a scratch. Go back or we will both be in danger, Eorl."

I slid my hands under his arms and linked my fingers over his chest. I pulled him to safety. He was very heavy. It was not fat. It was muscles that made him look big and bulky. I strained all my muscles until I thought I would rip into half. Faramir dug the heel of his leather boot into the ground and pushed. I hid him behind some bushes. "Come on, captain. Let us see that wound of yours," I said. I unclasped his cloak and took out my dagger. I cut some of his shirt away so I could see his wound properly.

"My father is going to be mad if he sees my ripped shirt," Faramir laughed wryly. I muttered in agreement. The wound was not bad. It was red, but not too much blood. I peered closer. No splints of metal anywhere. I clasped his cloak and nodded. Faramir thanked me and we crawled back to where the battle was still raging.

Or at least it _was _raging. Bodies littered the ground. Mostly Haradrim. I saw Edereth lying on the ground, an arrow stuck in his breastbone. Poor Edereth, the laughing Edereth with a dark sense of humor. May his spirit find its way.

"How many dead?" Faramir asked. Duhildir replied, "Six, m'lord. Two oliphaunts bearing nine of the Enemy fled."

"Good. Eorl, Duhildir, Elhor, Kennith, follow me. The rest of you return to the cave." Faramir smiled. I drew my sword like the rest of them and we trudged up the hill silently.

We Rangers are famous for our 'silent walking'. We learnt it from the elves, in the greater days of Minas Tirith. Alas, now, it is crumbling into decay.

Three figures sat around a campfire. It smelt good. One of them was bald as a coot with cheesy-white skin. He was a scary looking one. The other two had curly hair covering their head. They wore green... no brown cloaks. Whenever one of them moved, it changed hue.

Faramir emerged from the shrubbery. The two creatures jumped. The creature slinked away with a pale light in his eyes. I touched my blade to the fatter one's neck. His eyes widened.

"Who are you?" Faramir demanded sternly. I could see he was tired. A dark patch was growing on his shoulder where the arrow got him.

"We are innocent travelers on an errand of secrecy," said the older one. "Frodo Baggins is my name and this is Samwise Gamgee. We are from the Shire up north. Hobbits we call ourselves, but you may know us as Halflings or Hobytla."

Duhildir spat. "Innocent travelers! No one dwells in Ithilien except Rangers and servants of the Dark Lord Sauron."

"Silence Duhildir!" Faramir fairly shouted. "Don't speak his name here." He stared at the hobbits. I felt my blade shiver as Samwise trembled. Finally, Faramir said, "Bind their hands, blindfold them, and take them to the cave."


	3. One Ring

**III **

The cave was behind Henneth Annun, fairest of the falls in Ithilien.

Henneth Annun was what Faramir called a cave fit for a king. During sunset, the sunlight filters through the falls, making amber specks upon the damp floor.

I set Samwise the Hobbit down. My shoulder ached from carrying him. Faramir stared at them.

"Should I unbind them, Faramir?" I asked, touching his shoulder lightly. Faramir brushed a wisp of red-gold hair out of his eyes and shook his head.

"No Eorl. They might be orc spies. Hobbits, they say they are. If only Mithrandir were here," Faramir said and gave a great sigh. Faramir is a great admirer of the Grey Pilgrim. We have not seen him in Gondor. I wondered where he was, many a time. My captain smiled. "Come Eorl. You must be weary. We will eat. And then, we will decide their fate."

The rations were skimpy. Five hundred men sharing a four hundred men ration. Did Lord Denethor, steward of Gondor Faramir's father, mean for us to _starve_? He does not care for Captain Faramir's company. He gives the best to Boromir's company. I have served one year in that company. I had more than enough to eat. Many a time we must hunt for our own meat and forage for our own food, here in Faramir's command.

Faramir never took his eyes off the hobbits. The fat one Samwise kept squirming. I popped a piece of dried fruit into my mouth. Elhor kicked the fat one. "Keep still you!"

"Elhor!" Faramir said sternly. Elhor looked up in alarm. He was a excitable man. He has served as a Ranger since the days of Denethor's youth. "Let them be, Elhor. Unbind them, Kairdros." Kairdros slit their bonds and took off their blindfolds.

Frodo looked tired and weary. Almost as weary as Faramir. "Who are you, m'lord?" Frodo Baggins asked.

"I am Captain Faramir. This is Henneth Annun, fairest of all falls in Ithilien." The corners of Faramir's mouth twitched with amusment. "Are you orcish spies?"

Samwise scoffed. "Orcish spies indeed! Mr. Frodo an' I ain't spies, Captain. We are _hobbits_."

"You said you are on an errand of secrecy," said Faramir. "What might that be?"

Frodo bit his lip and said, "We are going to Mordor." I stifled a gasp. Mordor, the Black Land where the air itself is poisonous. The Dwelling of the Dark Lord himself!

"Where is the other, your skulking friend? He had an ill-favored look on his face," Faramir said.

Frodo trembled. Samwise looked at Frodo. "There is no other," Frodo finally said. "Just Sam and I."

I leaned over and whispered in Faramir's ear, "He lies."

"Aye. I know." Faramir called to Kairdros, "Give them some food, Kairdros. Make them comfortable for the night. They leave at dawn." Kairdros nodded. Frodo bowed low. When he did, a gold ring on a slender chain spilled out the front of his shirt. Faramir leaned forward. He had a strange twinkle in his eye.

I was choking now. I couldn't breathe. I knew what the ring was. The One Ring, weapon of the Enemy.

_One Ring to rule them all..._


	4. The Forbidden Pool

**III **

The hobbits were led to the back caves. Faramir followed. I was close behind, for I feared he might do something terrible.

The hobbits ate slowly. "Where did you begin your journey?" asked Faramir.

"Rivendell, or Imladris as you might call it," said Frodo. Here, Faramir grew intent. "Seven companions, Sam and I had: One, we lost in Moria. The others we left at Parth Galen above the Falls ofRauros: two of my kin; a Dwarf there was also, and an Elf, and two Men. They were Aragorn; and Boromir, who said that he came out of Minas Tirith, a city in the South."

"Boromir!" I gasped.

"Boromir son of Lord Denethor?" said Faramir. He suddenly looked stern. "You were with him?"

"Aye." The two hobbits nodded. Samwise's cheeks bulged with a waybread that they had brought with them. It smelt good from where I was.

"You were his friend?" Faramir asked. He placed one elbow on a knee and leaned forward. Frodo was silent for a long time. Finally, he said, "Aye. For my part. He was a valiant part of our Company."

"Then you would grieve to learn that he is dead," Faramir said softly. I turned and looked in pure surprise.

"I would grieve," Frodo said. He looked at Faramir for a long time and then, his green eyes widened. "Dead? He has perished? Are you trying to trap me in words, playing with me? Or are you now trying to snare me with lies?"

"I would not even lie to an _orc_." Faramir gave a wry chuckle. "Boromir was my friend, and protector, and brother."

Frodo gave a great gasp. The cave was so quiet my ears rang. Faramir stood up. I could see the Ring... Faramir, no! No words came out of my mouth. My words were stillborn. "A chance for Faramir, captain of Gondor, to show his true quality. Here I am, in the wilderness, with two hobbits and a host of men at my call." Faramir smirked. He sighed. "I will leave you now and see you in the morning.

I was awakened by Faramir in the middle of the night. "What it is, my captain?" I asked sleepily.

"Come Eorl. We have found the third one," said he as I rubbed my eyes with my knuckles.

"The skulking one?" asked I.

"Aye. Don't tarry. Go wake Frodo."

Frodo was not sleeping. His back was turned to mine. I could feel evil in that place. I shook his shoulders. He scrambled and shoved his hand into his shirt. "Frodo," I whispered. "They found the third one." Frodo got up. I led him to where Henneth Annun cascaded down into the Forbidden Pool.

The Forbidden Pool was black and slick, like a black glass. A slimy white creature jumped out of the water, his bony body shiny with water.I heard Faramir say to the hobbit, "To enter the Forbidden Pool bears the penalty of death."

"Don't shoot," Frodo replied. "He only seeks fish! Look!"

True enough, the creature was slapping a fish on the rocks. He was muttering under his breath. "Stupid master to leave uss. I told you he was tricksy! No! _Gollum_. Master is our friend. Nassty men tooks them. _Gollum, gollum_." I shuddered, despite the cloak around me. "Our only wish, to catch a fish, so juicy _sweet_!" The last word rose and shivered down the rocks. He seemed to be singing.

"Let me go down," Frodo said, "and let me convince him to come up to me. Smeag0l is a good creature, if you do not hurt him."

Faramir gave his consent. When Frodo had disappeared down the bend, he snapped his fingers. Kennith, and five others followed Faramir down.

I watched Frodo. "Come to master, Smeagol. I have lots of fish waiting for you!" Frodo beckoned to Smeagol. Come to master. Yes, master has fish waiting for you! Come on Smeagol. Good Smeagol!" I could see Faramir and the other six waiting.

"Is Master taking uss to fishes?" Smeagol asked.

"Yes Smeagol. Hurry up or I'll eat the fishes myself." Smeagol followed Frodo. And then Faramir sprang the trap. They pulled a sack over Smeagol's head and bound his hands.

"Faramir! Do not do that!" Frodo cried but the captain paid no heed to his words. I wrinkled my nose and thought, _Frodo should be grateful we did not shoot that vile thing on the spot_. They came up the dirt path with Smeagol over Kennith's shoulders.

"Eorl," said Faramir. "Go wake Samwise. The sun is rising."


	5. Ithilien to Osgiliath

**V**

Samwise plunged his head in the copper bowl of water I brought him. Water sloshed out. I was laughing. He looked up and gave a sheepish grin. I had expected him to wash his face, not give himself a hair-wash.

"Where's Mr. Frodo?" he asked.

"With Captain Faramir."

"What's your name?" Samwise asked, accepting the threadbare towel I handed to him. He dried his neck and his face. Then, he rubbed his curly hair vigorously.

"Eorl, Ithran's son, my lord."

"Oh, don't call me that," Samwise said and blushed. "My name's Samwise Gamgee, Hamfast's son. You can call me Sam, thank you. Like my ol' Gaffer used to say, 'Samwise is too big a name for a silly hobbit like you, Sam. Sam you shall be. I dunno why your mother named you Samwise.'" We laughed together.

"Sam then," I said. "Come Sam. Frodo and Captain Faramir is waiting in the other room. Your friend is there too?"

"Gollum?" Sam exclaimed. "The little Stinker?"

"Aye. They caught him not an hour past. Hurry Sam. The captain is waiting."

It was dawn, yet the rain fell down steadily outside. It was grey, cold, and dank today. Faramir sat on his chair, a lamp in a crevice above him. Kennith and Kairdos stood next to Gollum, as Sam called him. It sounded more appropriate than Smeagol. I stood next to Faramir. Poor Gollum still clutched the fish like it was his anchor. The sack was still over Gollum's head, his hands were still bound with sisal-rope.

Frodo was saying, "Please untie him, Faramir. He is our guide, without him we would be lost."

Faramir's voice was cold. He motioned to Kennith. Kennith lifted the sack off the head but still kept the bonds on. "He is your guide you say?" Faramir inquired. Frodo nodded.

"He is leading us into Mordor, so that the One Ring might be destroyed."

"You are far from the Black Gate. How exactly is this _Smeagol _going to bring you into Mordor?"

"He says there is a path that runs by Minas Morgul. That is the only way, says he. I believe him." Frodo was practically begging. Faramir raised an eyebrow.

"The Morgul Vale?" Faramir asked. He glared at Gollum. "Is that its name? The Morgul Vale?"

Gollum grinned sheepishly. He had a pale gleam in his shiny eyes. "No! Of _course _not! Good Smeagol will never take Master by that way."

Faramir gave a signal and Kairdos cuffed the vile creature. Gollum choked. A green gleam touched his eyes. "Yes! Yes it is that name." The pale gleam returned. "But what's wrong with that? Master says take the hobbitses into Mordor and good Smeagol is doing so! It is the only way. _Gollum, gollum, gollum_." The captain turned to Frodo.

"Frodo, a terror dwells in the paths above Minas Morgul. Do not go that way! I don't trust this creature, and I think you shouldn't."

Frodo looked at Gollum, still being held by the neck by Kairdros. "I'm sorry Captain Faramir. We have no other way." Faramir leaned back into his chair. He gave a weary sigh.

"We shall see you off to the borders of Ithilien. I hope you know what you are doing, Frodo son of Drogo."

We Rangers were masked, with bows in hand and swords at our sides. The hobbits trudged with us. They made less noise than we did. Gollum crunched leaves as he went. Faramir stopped us.

"This is the border of Ithilien, the border closest to Minas Morgul," Faramir said. He palced a hand on Frodo's shoulder. "Go Frodo. Go with the good will of all good men." Frodo bowed low, almost kissing his feet. Sam smiled at me. I smiled back but I knew he could not see it.

"You have shown true quality, Captain," Sam said. "Like my ol' Gaffer used to say, 'The best quality ever!'"

Faramir smiled and he bowed one last time. We turned and walked off, leaving the hobbits staring at us from behind. Goodbye Sam, go with the good will of all good men.

When we returned to the cavelater thatnight, Elhor said, "We have received a message from Gondor, m'lord. Denethor is taking us out of Ithilien and stationing us at Osgiliath. Kendar's company is to come to Henneth Annun."

"At _Osgiliath_?" Faramir said. It was a captain's dream and nightmare to be stationed at Osgiliath. The dream because it is your responsibility to guard the river garrison that guards Minas Tirith. The nightmare because the weight of the survival of Gondor crashes down on you. If a captain should fail to guard Minas Tirith, he will be put to death.

Elhor smiled. "Aye, Captain Faramir. At Osgiliath. Lord Denethor, your father, wants us at the garrison by noon tomorrow. Kendar's company arrives at noon here. Your father doesn't want to risk anything unprotected."

"We have to set out tonight," Faramir said. He turned and smiled at me. "Imagine, Eorl. My father wants me to protect _Osgiliath_. He is finally--" Faramir was laughing so hard he could not speak.

However, I was not so excited. "I don't know, Faramir. There's something not right about it."

"Ah. One of your 'feelings' again."

"Aye. When have I been wrong?"

"When have you been right? Come, Eorl. Let us not worry lest we waste time. Come on, let's get ready, shall we?"

I could almost hear Sam say, "Like my ol' Gaffer said, 'Somethin' ain't right!'"


	6. Attack!

**VI**

We arrived at Osgiliath when the Sun was in her prime. How bleak Osgilitah was! Grey stone, and more grey stone. Where was the rich colors of Ithilien? The only things green there were the grass from the Field of Pelennor and the tufts of grass that stuck up from the crevices.

"Make yourself comfortable, lads," Faramir said. Men settled everywhere, scattered here and there.

That night, Faramir and I were on our backs, gazing at the stars. They were like diamonds on a bed of black velvet. It was just like old times again. Although Faramir was a good three years older than me, he was still my best friend. "Remember when we were younger, I used to sneak you in for my astronomy lessons?" asked Faramir.

"Aye. And good old Arnothran never betrayed us," I said, laughing as I remembered the old times. I pointed to a star. "I can't remember the name of that star."

"_Elthoniel-tinuvai_," Faramir recited from memory. "'The most beautiful'. I wanted to marry a lady as beautiful as that star. As beautiful, as fair... like your sister Elana. She was fair and beautiful. A good cook too." We both laughed and laughed. "I miss Elana," he whispered.

"I do too," I whispered back, feeling tears welling up. I wiped them away and glared at _Elthoniel-tinuvai_. I sat up and leaned against a wall. I folded my legs up and wrapped my arms around them. "Your father seemed to turn down every wench you sought to wed."

"Aye. For Boromir, he was pestering to marry. Do you get the feeling my father hates me sometimes?" Faramir spat and wiped a hand over his eyes. I felt that he was trying not to cry either. I knew why Lord Denethor hated his lesser son. But I could not say it. Not yet. I attempted to make a more light-hearted conversation.

"Remember when we wererowing down the river, and we got swept down Raous?" I asked. Faramir nodded and smiled. "And then we survived. You insisted that you saw a pair of blue eyes of an elf through the trees that day. When we made it back to Minas Tirith, my father was screaming at me."

A dark shadow crossed Faramir's face. "My father did not notice I was gone. He was too busy teaching Boromir his steward-duties."

So much for light-hearted conversations.

"Ah Faramir, Faramir," I sighed. I got up and said, "If you will excuse me, captain. I shall retire for I am dreadfully weary." Faramir was too deep in his heavy thoughts to notice my absence.

------------------------

I was awakened in the middle of the night by Elhor. "What is it Elhor?" said I.

"Orcs coming in boats, sweeping down the River-in-Pelennor," Elhor said urgently. "Captain Faramir is calling for you." I got up immedietly. I ran up the stairs, skipping two stairs at a time. I saw _Elthoneil-tinuvai _on the way up. May the Valar protect us. Faramir was standing, gazing out a window.

"I see their torches," Faramir said softly. "They will be here before dawn. The men must be ready to fight." He turned to me and grabbed my shoulders. His voice grewgrave."Eorl. If I am slain, I want you in command. If you see us losing the battle, take the men back to Minas Tirith."

"Faramir--"

"Don't tarry Eorl. Go, go, go."

--------------------------

The orcs were here when a grey glimmer covered Minas Tirith. Dawn was here. I could feel my heart ramming into my chest. The legions of the Haradrim seemed easier than these orcs, well trained and well fed. Faramir was next to me, his sword drawn, the blade bressing lightly on the point of his nose. He was hyperventilating.

I looked opposite us. Kennith and Duhildir were hyperventilating too. Orcs rushed past us without noticing us. They smelt foul, like stagnant water with green scum in it. Faramir closed us. _May the Valar protects us_, I thought, feeling my heart ram harder.

"Now," Faramir whispered to me. I rushed out right behind him and thrust the sword blindly. It caught an orc between the eyes. I drew the sword. It was covered with black blood. _Yrch_, _Elvish word for 'orc'_, I thought. Where did I learn that word? "Eorl!" Faramir cried. "Watch out!" I turned and an orc swung a mallet into my forehead. I fell back and darkness swallowed me like a wave. The last thing I saw was the orc leering down at me, exposing his yellow fangs.

--------------------------

Wind was rushing into my face, it whistled in my ears. My left eye was glued shut by something sticky. I was on a horse, I could feel it. Someone's arms held the reins. Faramir.

"Duck!" he shouted. I looked up. Nazgul, fell beasts of the air. "Duck Eorl!" The Nazgul grabbed men by their sharp claws. Faramir was nearly carried away once. Luckily, someone shot an arrow and killed the fell beast. I ducked. Faramir's chin wasupon my back. When they had passed, we straightened again. Foam flew out of the horse's mouth.

"You should have left me in Osgiliath," I said.

"Nay Eorl. You are my friend aren't you?" I felt him smile. His hands gripped the leather reins tightly. I could see them tremble. Men screamed as they were picked up.

"Watch out!" I cried. A Nazgul dropped a man infront of us. Faramir's horse trampled the poor lad. I winced as blood gushed up onto my boots. I touched my forehead and winced. I think it was cracked. It was a miracle that I survived. I felt the world spin. My head ached.

"Look!" someone cried and pointed. I looked.

"Faramir," I said. "It's Mirthandir!"

Mithrandir rode on a snow-white horse. He had a staff in his hand. It was white. The horse was more graceful than I had ever seen. I could not take my eyes off it. Faramir breathed a sigh of relief.

"Praise be to the Valar."

Mirthandir raised his staff. The light was white, but not blinding. The Nazgul screeched and they fled, their wings beating furiously. I looked up and smiled at their retreat.

Men were chanting Faramir's name loudly. "Faramir! Faramir!" The women were crying with relief, maybe from seeing their beloved captain, maybe from seeing their sons. I saw my father Ithran in the crowd. He was chanting Faramir's name.And then I saw a little boy. Nay, he was not a little boy. A short man, about the size of Sam. A hobbit! He, too, was chanting Faramir's name.

Faramir's sharp ears picked up the hobbit's high and clear voice. He turned, eyes wide. "What is this? Another hobbit?" He put his lips to my ear and said, "A strange time we live in, Eorl. Hobbits turn up every two days." I laughed but found that it hurt to laugh. Maybe my ribs were broken, too.

Prince Imrahil, Faramir's uncle, rode up next to his nephew. "Faramir," said Prince Imrahil, "your father Lord Denethor the steward is looking for you."

Faramir bit a lip. It was then I noticed a big gash on his cheek. Blood trickled down and dripped off his jaw. "Tell my father I will be there after my friend Eorl is treated," Faramir said. I hid a smile in the folds of my cloak.

The captain rode up to the House of Healing. Ioreth, the Warden's wife,gasped when she saw my wounds. She made me sit on a tuffet as she cleaned my forehead.

"You should've left me in Osgiliath, Faramir," I said. I yelped in pain. Although Ioreth was gentle, it still hurt terribly. When she touched it, it felt like the orc was attacking me again.

"And what?" Faramir demanded. "Left my brother and only friend for the dead?"

I smiled. "Well, you have always protected me when we were but children."

Faramir shifted the weight from one foot onto the other. Ioreth declared me done. A white bandage ran around my head and gold hair.

"Come, Eorl. We will go to my father," said Faramir.


	7. The Suicide Mission

**VII**

Lord Denethor sat upon a seat of black wood. His grey hair spilled past his shoulders. His eyes seemed to pick out every flaw Faramir made. I saw Mirthandir next to Lord Denethor. Mithrandir was smiling.

He stared in distaste when I entered the hall with Faramir. We bowed low. "You are with that _boy _again?" Lord Denethor said disapprovingly. I stepped back, next to a pillar. I leaned against it, feeling the cold of the white marble seep into my shirt. Lord Denethor turned to his son. "I am told you rode under the shadows of the fell beast of Mordor."

"Aye, m'lord." Faramir kept his gaze locked into his father's eyes. I admired Faramir for his courage to do so. I would never _dream _of looking at the steward of Gondor like that.

"And what is this I hear about _you _sending the Ring into the hands of a witless _Halfling_?" Lord Denethor shouted.

I wondered how he found out. Even Mirthandir was greatly surprised by His Lordship's sudden outburst.

"Boromir would have brought it to me," Lord Denethor whispered, leaning back into his seat. "Aye, my Boromir--who was greatly loyal to me--would have brought it to me. It would have been locked, deep in the vaults. Only taken out in time of great need."

"Nay, Father!" Faramir suddenly cried out passionately. "Nay. Boromir would have stretched his hand out and taken it for his own. He would have fallen, though his will and strength is great. And when he returned, you would have not known your son..." Faramir's voice faltered.

Lord Denethor stood up and shouted, "Boromir was loyal to me! Not some _wizard's pupil_!"

Mithrandir frowned. Faramir looked shaken. I clenched my fist. How dare Lord Denethor, as great as he may be, say things like that about Faramir! Faramir, who has risked life and limb to save Gondor.

The steward sank back into his chair. He closed his eyes. "I will not yield the river in Pelennor unfought. Osgiliath must be retaken."

I stepped out of the shadows, bowing. "But milord, Osgiliath is overrun. There are simply too many orcs there. We were and are outnumbered."

Lord Denethor glared at me. "Much must be risked in war. Is there not a captain here who is ready to do the will of his lord the steward?"

Faramir was trembling, though he did his best not to show it. I bit my lip.

"Boromir would have gone... he would have done his best to serve his lord's will," Lord Denethor said softly.

Faramir was trembling. I could see it now. No Faramir. Don't say yes... Do not yield to His Lordship's will... No Faramir. You do not have to be as great as Boromir. Many people love you the way you are. I was prepared to step out and volunteer myself when Faramir sighed.

"Since you were robbed of Boromir," Faramir said softly, "I will do what I can in his stead." He bowed low. I saw him struggling to keep back tears. Mithrandir had a worried look on his face. Perhaps the wizard could convince the steward to reconsider.

Faramir turned to leave. Then he stopped and turned back. "If I should return, think better of me Father."

That was the first time, in all the years I have known him, I have heard Faramir adress the steward as 'Father'. _He loved a father who did not love him_, I thought.

"That would be in the manner of your return," Lord Denethor said coldly.

That was when the steward lost my respect for good.

-----------------------------------

Faramir and I were alone in his chambers. A dying fire burned in the fireplace. He was seated on the bed, his arms on his knees, his head bowed.

"Why did you yield to your father's will?" I demanded angrily. "You _know _it is a suicide mission!"

Faramir looked up.

"I would have gone for you, m'lord. I would have gone and died for you," I whispered. I leaned against the wooden door and folded my arms.

"That's why _I _volunteered," Faramir said. He looked up and forced smiled. He got up and unlaced his leather breastplate. "I knew you would have gone for me..."

"You're lying," I snarled.

He turned away, hands planted on his waist. He was silent for a long time.

Faramir turned around again. Tears were in his eyes and streaming down his cheeks. They mixed with the dried blood on his cheek. "Eorl," he whispered, his voice shaking. "Why does my father hate me?"

This was it. I knew this was the right time. "Because," I heard myself say. "Because you killed your mother!"

Faramir looked stunned. He sank onto his bed. "What?"

"You killed her. She died giving birth to you, Faramir. She died giving life to you. Lord Denethor has never forgiven you for taking your mother's life away."

He was angry now. "Why wasn't I told!"

"No one has the courage to." I shrugged indifferently. "The people of Minas Tirith fear and respect you, Faramir. They respect you more than they respected Boromir. _I _know. I have seen it in their eyes."

Now he was crying like a little baby. His face buried in his hands.

"I will go with your company," said I.

"No. You are badly hurt." He looked up. "You are not fit to ride out. I will go. And if I should return, we will renew our friendship and you shall forgive me from not allowing you to come with me."

--------------------------------

I watched Faramir seated upon his brown horse ride at the head of the column. Women were sobbing. I could not cry. I was too old too cry.

"Faramir!" Mirthrandir's voice shouted. "Faramir! Do not throw your life away so rashly. Your father loves you, Faramir. He will remember it before the end. Farewell!"


	8. Denethor's Pyre

**VIII**

I was positioned above the gate. I could not see the battle, for it was shrouded by the thick dawn mist. I was wearing the heavy armor.

"There is one thing I hate about this armor," said I to Ioden.

"What is that, Eorl?" said he.

I writhed. "I cannot scratch my back! It's annoying me." Ioden laughed. He turned back to look at the Field. Suddenly, he gripped the edge of the wall and squinted. "What is it, Ioden?"

"Look! Look! Can you see it? Something brown yonder. Can you see it?" Ioden said. He pointed. I followed his gaze. Something brown was clopping slowly toward us. Was that...?

_Oh Valar. No..._

"Yes," I said. "I see it."

"Should I call the gate-keepers to open the gate?" asked Ioreth.

"Nay. We should wait for it to come closer. It could be an orcish trick." I glanced at him. He nodded and we continued to look. My stomach was being wrenched painfully. Oh Valar... Oh Valar... Oh Valar... I squinted. Now, I could see it. Faramir was being dragged by the horse, his boot snagged on the stirrups.

"Open the gate!" I cried out, keeping tears in. "Open the gate! Hurry!"

The ancient gates, built by the founding fathers of the city of Numenor, whined and creaked as men strained to push it open. I have been on guard duty before. I know it is no easy task.

"Ioreth," said I. "Wait here..." I have him my spear and scrambled down the stairs. I yanked my confounded helmet off and tossed it to the side. The gate opened. The horse clopped in slowly. Faramir's lips were cracked, blood stained his face, his hands, and his wound on his cheek looked worse than ever. I unsheathed my dagger and cut the stirrup. Two arrows stuck out of his breastplate.

How long ago was it, when we were having fun in Ithilien? killing the Harads?

"Get a stretcher," I said to no one. Six men stared dumbfounded at me. "Get a stretcher, you dotards!" I screamed. They bobbed their heads and ran up. I touched Faramir's face. It was burning, as hot as a fireplace.

The stretcher came. We lifted Faramir onto the stretcher and carried him up five levels to the Citadel. Lord Denethor and a little boy, no the hobbit, rushed out of the hall. Lord Denethor's face was grey. I could not help thinking, _I told you we were outnumbered_.

Lord Denethor, with a sweep of his black fur cloak, bent down over his son. "Oh my son! Say not that he has fallen!" he cried and touched Faramir's face. His face was a very picture of pure agony.

"Shall I take him to the House of Healing?" asked I, knowing Faramir was probably dying of a fever.

"Nay," Lord Denethor whispered. I saw something flicker and grow in his eyes. I did not like that... "Nay, take him to the tombs. And you, Eorl, shall come with us."

_But Faramir was not dead! _I thought angrily. Instead, I bowed and said, "Aye, m'lord..."

----------------------------

"No tomb for Denethor and Faramir," the steward was muttering under his breath, "no long sleep of death embalmed. We will burn like the heathen kings of old." He turned to us guards. "Bring wood and oil."

He meant to burn Faramir!

----------------------------

I rushed out of the tombs, despite Lord Denethor's screaming at me. Where was Mithrandir? I saw something... the lower levels were in flames. A war has begun.

"Mithrandir!" I shouted, running blindly. My head throbbed from the excitement.

Someone was shouting Mithrandir's other name. "Gandalf?" The hobbit was running, wearing the black-and-silver of the guard. "Gandalf! Where is Gandalf? Mithrandir! Gandalf!" The hobbit saw me. He pounded his little fists on my breastplate. "Where is Gandalf?" we screamed at each other. Despite the circumstances, we laughed.

"The steward is burning--" the hobbit began.

"I know."

"Go upstairs and see that he does not do anything stupid. I will search for Gandalf."

I must have shown doubt on my face, for the hobbit declared stoutly, "Ho! I am Peregrin Took, mind you! I run fast, despite the length of my legs." I bit my lip and nodded. He ran off, screaming Mirthandir's name at the top of his high and clear voice. I watched him go before racing up the path.

I tripped over something. I fell. My hand landed on something soft and... boggy. I opened my eyes and screamed. A face screamed back at me. I raised my hands. They were covered in blood. I had placed my hands on faces. All of them had terrible expressions. They died a terrible death, I saw. The face I had seen first was Duhildir's. I wanted to cry. _Stop! You are a son of Gondor and a friend of Faramir's_, I told myself. _Get back to the tombs Eorl, and try to stop this madness. _

I ran as fast as I could.

"Wait Gandalf!" Peregrin's high voice... "Look! There is the soldier!" Someone grabbed my hand and with incredible strength, pulled me onto the horse. Peregrin sat infront of me, Mithrandir behind me. Peregrin flashed a quick smile at me as the horse, as white as snow, ran up the winding road. Everything was a blur.

Suddenly, we burst into the tombs. They were prepared to light the wood. Lord Denethor's hair was shining with oil.

"Stay this madness!" Mithrandir cried as I swung off the horse.

"So, it is you Mithrandir," Lord Denethor said and grinned maliciously. "Oh I know... you planned to use me as a shield against Mordor. With your right hand you seeked to suplant me. You think you are wise, yet for all your subtleties you had not wisdom. Did you think the eyes of the White Tower were blind?" Lord Denethor shouted. And from inside his cloak, he pulled out a black ball made of marble. I think it was a marble. It had an orange light flickering inside.

"A _palantir_! A seeing stone!" Peregrin gasped.

"I know what will happen to Minas Tirth. A new power is rising, Mithrandir. A new power that cannot be stopped." Lord Denethor was smiling maliciously. An evil glimmer shone through. He turned to an attendant. "Set a fire to our flesh."

Mithrandir rode up and knocked the steward off with his white staff. The flames touched the pyre. "No!" I cried. And then the hobbit with his stout hobbit-heart leaped into the flames and attempted to push Faramir off.

"Help!" Peregrin Took cried.

"Do not take my son from me!" Lord Denethor shouted angrily.

I reached into the flames, not caring that I burned my arms. My love for my friend conquered all of the pain that exploded on my skin. With a last burst of strength, I pulled Faramir off the pyre. His head knocked the floor. A big bruise appeared. Faramir moaned from his feverish dream. He called for his father.

"My son," Lord Denethor whispered, his face changed, "is calling for me..." Lord Denethor got up and attempted to push me away. Peregrin and I were beating the flames. Lord Denethor pushed me away and grabbed Peregrin by the collar. "You shall not take my son away from me!" he cried.

Mithrandir gave a great swing of his staff and the steward fell back into the flames, the _palantir _rested upon his chest. He gave one great cry and was never seen again by mortal men. Mithrandir looked away in horror.

"So passes Denethor, son of Ecthelion. Lord and steward of Gondor," Mithrandir said softly. He turned to me. "Take Faramir up the House of Healing so that he can sleep or die, if that be his fate."

With tears in my eyes, I bowed low and with the help of another attendant, I carried Faramir up to the House.


	9. Lady Eowyn and Raya

**X**

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A/N: I'm a typical updating queen... Three chapters in one day. I promise to keep you in the suspense for the last chapter --winks--

* * *

The garden of the House of Healing was quiet and peaceful. Faramir and I sat on a stone bench in the bright sun. The color was beginning to return to his pale cheeks. He had a long strip of bandage running around his chest and shoulder where the arrows had stuck him. 

"Why did the Warden bind your hand?" I asked, indicating the burnt one.

"I keep bursting the blisters," he said under his breath.

A breath of wind swept into the garden and rocked the poplars that sprouted there. We could see the Field of Pelennor. Dead bodies still littered the field. It was still a smoking ruin. Orcs and Haradswere tossed into an enormous pile and burnt according to Rohirrim tradition.The oliphaunts wereleft there to bloat and decay.The dead Riders and horses were burnt with honor. The smell of burning flesh mingled for days.

Faramir took a deep breath and commented, "This is the first breath of fresh wind in the last week."

True. The wind brought the smell of flowers...not from Minas Tirith. From the Gap of Rohan, maybe. No flowers have grown in Minas Tirith since the days of Ecthelion's youth. Maybe orcs poisoned the ground.

The Warden came up to Faramir and I. "M'lord," he said softly. "Lady Eowyn would like to speak with you. Her handmaiden Raya is with her. Should I send the servant away?"

"Nay. Let them both in and leave us," said Faramir. He gave a great sigh and yanked at a stray string coming from the hem of his grey linen shirt.

Lady Eowyn was beautiful. She had gold hair spilling in slightly frizzy curls down to her waist. Her grey eyes were stern and cold. She donned a white velvet dress. Her arm was in a sling. She bowed slightly. Faramir rose and both of us bowed.

And then she took a step to her left...

And I saw her.

Raya. The name meant 'The Unfortunate Lass'. If I were her mother, I would have named her Kana, meaning 'The Most Beautiful'.

Raya is even more beautiful than her mistress. She had black waves to her waist and dark blue eyes. In the sunlight, they looked like two scraps of dark blue velvet. Black hair was uncommon among the Rohirrim. Perhaps her mother or father is of Gondor, where darker hair is more common. She had pale pink lips that curled up slightly in her fair face. She was not as finely dressed as Lady Eowyn. She wore a brown linen dress.

"My Lord Faramir," said Lady Eowyn. "I have a request."

"I will do it, m'lady, if it is within my power, for I have not taken up my place in the city," Faramir said. I could tell he was doing all in his willpower to keep his knees from buckling under him. I bit back a laugh. The two nobles strolled to a shadier part of the garden, leaving Raya and I alone.

Finally, Raya said in the tongue of the Rohirrim, "Are you Eorl?"

"Aye. Did the Warden tell you that?"

"Aye."

"Could we speak in the Common Tongue? Though I know this tongue, I am more fluent in the Common Tongue." I saw amusment in those eyes of her.

"Aye," she said in the Common Tongue. "Pray, tell. How did you come to know the tongue of my people?"

"My mother is of Rohan," I said.

"Ah. Are you Lord Faramir's handservant?"

"Oh no! I am his..." I thought of a past conversation with Faramir. "... brothers. Not bioligical brothers, mind you. We have been friends for many a-year."

"I know. Ioreth told me when you were little children, you slipped spiders into the soldier's armor and hog-greased the Ranger's saddles," Raya said. I thought she was trying ever so hard not to laugh. I couldn't help blushing. I had to change the subject.

"The only Rohirrim in this city are the Riders and Lady Eowyn who hid disguised herself as a lad. Did you disguise yourself too?"

"Nay. Lady Eowyn sent word for me to come. Her brother Eomer, Marshall of the Mark, was displeased. It was a dangerous journey, with many orcs guarding the known roads. My guide and I had to come by boggy paths. I am glad to be here, for Merry Brandybuck the Hobbit is in this city too. I have grown fond of him."

_I am glad you came_, I thought to myself, _for I could get acquainted with you Raya-the-Beautiful_.

"Why aren't you riding out with the rest of the men to the Morgul Vale?" Raya asked.

I indicated my bandage that still wound around my head. "Lord Aragorn says I am not fit to ride out." I rolled up my sleeves and showed her my burnt arms. The skin was browned by the heat. The scars will be there forever, joining with the white lines of battle. Raya smiled with symphathy.

Raya sat next to me on the bench. We watched the two nobles as they walked in the shade. Lady Eowyn came over. "Come Raya. Let us go."

The maid stood up and winked playfully at me as she disappeared down the stairs.

Faramir let out a whistle.

"What are you whistling at? I can tell you like Lady Eowyn too," I said and punched his shoulder lightly. Faramir punched me back and we ended up scuffling on the floor.

--------------------------------

We saw Lady Eowyn three days later. My scuffle with Faramir had burst his stiches. He had to get his wounds restiched and now, he was pale again from the henbane they had given him to kill the pain.

The Warden was swearing and cursing as he sewed Faramir up. "Imagine! Two grown men wrestling like boys. If this wound bursts again, I'm not stiching it up again. I have better things to do."

Faramir had tried to protest through the strip of leather between his teeth. Instead, it had come out as a garble of nonsense and streams of saliva.

Faramir and I were playing chess when Lady Eowyn came up the stairs. She had a small smile on her face as she bowed to Faramir. Her sling was gone. I left my seat. Raya had her hair in a tight knot.

"Come Raya," said I. "Come. I want to show you something."

I led her up a flight of stairs to a higher level of the garden. It overlooked the entire city of Minas Tirth. I could see Osgiliath. The sky was blue and clouds were scarce. Raya's mouth opened a little. She threw her head back and her hair slipped out of the knot and spilled down her shoulders.

"It's beautiful, Eorl. I swear we can see the Gap of Rohan or maybeevenEdorasfrom here," she said and shielded her eyes against the Sun. "Look! There is an eagle, high up. No, three of them! Look how graceful they are."

I looked up. True enough, three black specks flew across the blue vault of the sky. They flew faster than most eagles.

"Faramir and I used to come up here, after his father had reprimended him. He always felt better when he stood up here," I said.

"Then Lady Eowyn should come up here," Raya said. "She has never been the same since her uncle King Theoden died. She has been withdrawn and lonely. Lord Eomer can do little to help her." She looked over her shoulder and gave a great cry. "Look, Eorl! Look!"

I turned and looked. My mouth dropped open at the sight I saw.

Faramir had Lady Eowyn in her arms. His mouth was pressed against hers. Lady Eowyn's arms was wrapped around his neck. I laughed and laughed and hooted with more laughter. Raya was giggling. Faramir's cheeks turned red but he did not turn to look at me. Many people must have seen them. He didn't care. He was in love. _Love is copatetic_, like my father used to say.

And then my captain took Lady Eowyn's hand in his. He led her downstairs. Raya and I doubled over with laughter.


	10. The End of the Beginning

A/N: Thanks for all who have reviewed the story! More stories by me will come up soon. I promise. God bless :-)

**Wherein the Beginning Ends and the Ending Begins**

_The Coronation:_

I was required to wear the black-and-silver of the Tower Guard. Still, it was better than the heavy armor some men were commanded to wear. I stood next to Raya. She looked beautiful. Her hair was in a wispy knot that grew wispier by the minute. Throughout the ceremony, she had to keep making sure it was in it's place.

Faramir wore a light blue damask shirt, a dark blue cloak, and his usual black breeches and boots. He was beaming. Lady Eowyn was beautiful, I admitt. She wore a dress of pale yellow silk. A circlet of gold rested upon her brow.

I could not see Lord Aragorn's face but I could see his figure kneeling infront of Faramir. Faramir placed the crown of old on Lord Aragorn's head. The crowd fell silent. After a minute, _King _Aragorn stood up. The crowd cheered and whooped. Raya was beaming. Her hair slipped out of the knot again. She heaved a weary sigh. I leaned over to her and whispered, "Don't worry. You look much prettier like that."

She looked into my face and kissed my nose. And then King Aragorn took off the crown and said :

_Et Earello Endorenna utulien. Sinome maruvan ar Hildinyar tenn' Ambar-metta! _

And those were the words that Elendil spoke when he came up out of the Sea on the wings of the wind: "Out of the Great Sea to Middle-Earth I am come. In this place will I abide, and my heirs, unto the ending of the world."

King Aragorn handed the crown back to Faramir. He said, "By the labour and the valour of many I have come into my inheritence. In token of this I would have the Ring-bearer Frodo Baggins bring the crown to me, and let Mithrandir set it upon my brow, if he will."

The crowd fell silent. How could King Aragorn do this? It was tradition that the steward be the one to crown the new king, though Faramir had not taken his place up in the city. Frodo Baggins and Mithrandir walked up the stairs to where King Aragorn stood, looking high and mighty. Faramir handed the crown to Frodo. He smiled as Frodo passed the crown onto Mithrandir. Mithrandir placed the crowd upon King Aragorn's head with great ceremony. The crowd cheered louder than the first time. I took Raya's hand in mine and kissed her hand. All was back in order in Middle-Earth, like the days of old.

---------------------------

_King Aragorn: _

We were alone in the hall with King Aragorn, Queen Arwen, and King Eomer of Rohan. The king and queen of Gondor were smiling broadly at us. Faramir and I bowed so far I feared we would have toppled over if King Aragorn had not said, "Rise."

We did as he bade us.

"Captain Faramir," King Aragorn said. "You shall take your place up in the city as Steward of Gondor, as tradition requires, but now that the king has returned, your desecendants shall not be steward. And right now, I shall make thee Prince of Ithilien as a reward for your bravery."

Faramir was surprised. Very surprised.

"Are you not pleased with it?" the king asked.

Faramir shook his head. "Nay m'lord. I have always dreamed of residing of Ithilien. Thank you m'lord." He bowed. King Aragorn turned his gaze to me.

"My queen," he said to Queen Arwen. "What gift shall we give this lad Eorl who is filled with loyalty and friendship? What gift is worthy enough? Tell me, Eorl. What are your desires?"

I said without hesitation, "To be a true soldier of Gondor and to loyal to m'lord Faramir till the world's ending."

"Ah. Then I shall make you _Prince_ Faramir's advisor and caretaker of his estate. Does that suit you, Prince Faramir?" King Aragorn asked. I could tell from Faramir's expression that he was unaccustomed to being called 'prince'. Finally, Faramir nodded and said, "It suits me well. More than I could ask for, m'lord."

"You are dismissed."

Faramir and I turned and we walked out of the hall when Faramir stopped halfway. "One more thing, my king, King Eomer," Faramir said. King Eomer's eyebrows climbed when Faramir adressed him. "I greatly desire to have permission to wed the beautiful Lady Eowyn."

Queen Arwen gave a small and knowing smile. She tucked a stray wisp of hair behind her left ear.

King Aragorn turned to King Eomer. King Eomer squinted at Faramir, as if considering. Then, he raised his hand and said, "Permission granted."

Faramir smiled as we walked out of the door. The guards bowed as we bowed. Prince Faramir was smiling and a faraway look filled his eyes. "Faramir," said I.

"Yes, my friend?"

"Does that mean I have to call you 'prince' from now on?"

-------------------------------

_Where we come to the end of the story:_

So began the Fourth Age of this world.

Pippin was dancing on a table with Merry. The men clapped and cheered. I walked onto the veranda and surveyed the merry-makers. Faramir, the happy groom, wore a black velvet shirt with gold stiching on the high collar. Over that, he wore a silver breastplate and shoulder-guards. I could tell he was dying for a scratch. Lady Eowyn, the happy bride, wore white silk. A thin veil covered her golden hair. I don't think I have seen Faramir this happy before.

Frodo and Sam were laughing and smiling. Sam looked thinner and more weary. Frodo had his third finger missing. King Aragorn declared that scar a medal of gallantry "better than any I could bestow".

Sam told me the reason why Frodo lost his finger. The creature Gollum had bitten it off.

I turned around and rested my elbows on the stone rail of the wall. Minas Tirith was quiet, but it was not the deep breath before the plunge. It was peace. _Real _peace thatmost Gondorians have never experienced.The surviving orcs will be flushed out and killed in time, Minas Tirith would be rebuilt, and the wounded soldiers would be healed in time. Not just physically but mentally too.I could not remember a time in Minas Tirith where men were not riding out to fight against foul orcs.

"_Lord _Eorl," said a voice next to me. I turned and saw Raya. She had her hair down. Raya wore a dark blue gown of damask. She took my hand in hers. "_Lord _Eorl," she repeated as if she could not believe it. She was smiling. Her blue eyes sparkled in the lamplight.

"Well Raya," I said, smiling back. "Would you care to be my lady then?"

Raya looked surprised. She curtsied low and said, "That would please me greatly, m'lord."

I pulled her into my arms. I looked into her velvet-eyes and kissed her hard...

... high above us, _Elthoniel-tinuvai _shone brighter than ever.

**THE END **

(And they all lived happily every after)


End file.
